OOM: Manchester

They make good time, helped by the almost clear roads and the way he keeps the Quattro at a steady 120mph all the way. On the M62, he does actually get pulled over for speeding and a plod approaches, breathaliser in hand. One flash of the badge though and a grin spreads over the man's face, half pleased, half embarrassed.

'Sorry Sir, didn't know you were back.'

'Well I'm not, am I? Not yet.'

'Won't keep you then, Guv. Have a good Christmas.'

'You an' all, son. Keep them streets clean.'

He looks over at Alex as he moves off, expressionless but still radiating an air of smugness.

'S'good to be 'ome, Bols. Though a quiet drink tonigh's out o'the question now. Half the force'll be down the boozer by the time we get there.'

The prospect? Couldn't please him more. Not just because he's looking forward to seeing his friends, there's a part of him that enjoys the prospect of letting her see how he's respected up here.

It's colder in the north, the houses less decorated though still scrupulously maintained. Manchester might have been the place to be in the 70s but the money's all moved down south now and it shows. Still, he displays no shame at the clear lack of wealth on his mother's street as he pulls up, nothing but satisfaction to be home. It's just after nine and the streets are icy but quiet.

'Righ' then, we'll drop in an' say 'ello, 'ave a cuppa an' a chat, then nip down the pub for a Christmas drink.'

His accent is stronger, his demeanour buoyant. This is a side Alex won't have seen before. Even more himself than usual, if that's possible.

OOM: A Job To Do

( Sheriff's back in town )